


Flowers and Icicles

by Missy



Category: Brave (2012), Frozen (2013)
Genre: Arguments, Arranged Marriage, Courtship, Courtship Gifts, F/F, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Making Up, Marriage As Political Tool, Marriage is Interrupted by a Battle and they Continue When it's Finished, Rescue, Royal Court Reaction to Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 21:16:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19303990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Merida and Elsa have no idea how to be romantic with one another.  But since they've been contracted to marry, they might as well start with small gifts...





	Flowers and Icicles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ConvenientAlias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/gifts).



“Merida, don’t slouch,” Elinor whispered, passing her daughter the soup tureen. 

Merida wrinkled her nose as she tried to sit a little straighter. Her relationship with her mother had definitely improved since the little ‘bear misadventure’ of several years past, as her father had called it while speaking to the Queen of Arendelle over the great table, laughing, trying to make his family sound as normal as possible. And yet she still feels like a scolded child when she fails to meet with their expectations. As if her very soul lacked when compared to the grace needed for this role.

“Fergus, I can make ice with my hands,” the Queen said. “I’m fine with your wife having been a bear.”

“I was a bear too!” shouted Hamish.

“Me too!” said Hubert. “We pooped on the floor!” He had a whole pie shoved into his mouth and was dribbling cinnamon and sugar everywhere. Elinor frowned and reached across the table to wipe at his mouth, and the Queen – well, she laughed.

And it was such a surprising sound that Merida actually stopped to listen to it. The Queen of Arendelle was not much of a laugher; her sister, Princess Anna, was the one who knew how to joke and laugh; Merida’s brothers loved her. So did Anna's husband, who kept looking at Anna as if she were about to explode. 

Everyone knew of the misfortunes of the daughters of the Arendelle royal family – their parents lost at sea, Elsa locked up in a room due to her unique gifts, only to be released when she came of age, and then that release caused near chaos. The girls’ near deaths at the hands of greedy invaders. Their talking snowman – who was currently in the storehouse surrounded by old lake ice holding court with some squirrels – was the least unusual part of their story. Merida had absorbed every word of it with eagerness – it made her oddness feel less pronounced, less embarrassingly clear. But her court gossiped about what sort of luck or misfortune might be brought to Dunbroch by Elsa's betrothal to Merida, and she knew that on some level Elsa and her own parents had suggested the match simply to pair their unusual, attention-drawing spare daughters.

The Queen’s smile was secretive – less reserved than thin, but her sister started giggling. Her expression was dry, bemused, and her sister stepped chattering into the conversational space. "You have to tell me what that was like!"

All three of Merida's brothers tried to explain at the same time. Merida tried to catch Queen Elsa’s eyes over the table – when she did the Queen automatically looked away. Merida cocked her head sideways, then pushed herself up from the table. “I have to um…use the necessary. Excuse me.”

She noted the panic in Elsa’s eyes as she abandoned her – trying her best to gesture her way into getting the girl to realize what she meant.

“I…have to burp," said Elsa, who muttered further excuses as she got up from the table. Merida tried hiding around the corner as Elsa made her exit. Then she hissed to draw the girl’s panicked attention, but Elsa was too busy looking about for Merida to hear it. Merida did the only thing she could do in such dire circumstances – she pitched a roll leftover from breakfast at Elsa's head.

The Queen gasped at the impact, whirled around, and sent a blast of ice from her fingertips in Merida’s direction. Merida rolled out of the way, drawing her bow and an arrow from the quiver. The wall of ice missed her body by inches, leaving a clear shelf of ice dangling in mid-air. It collapsed with a musical tinkling sound. Elsa stared at Merida in shock and Merida carefully lowered her arrow.

“I’m sorry,” Elsa said. “I..don’t like being sneaked up on.”

“Neither do I,” said Merida. She slid the arrow back into its quiver and shouldered her bow. 

“I can’t believe that this is the first time I’ve ever been alone with you, and then I almost froze you!”

“It’s all right,” Merida insisted. She sat on a small bench beneath a flaming sconce. Elsa followed her lead, sitting a ladylike distance apart. 

“It’s odd, isn’t it?”

“That this is the first time we’ve been alone together?” Elsa nodded. Merida continued, "didn’t realize it myself until you pointed that out. We’ve been so busy trying not to trip over each other we go through the process of contracting everything out..."

 

“I’ve never been courted before. Much less married,” Elsa interrupted. 

 

“Do you _want_ to be married?” Merida asked nervously. She peered at the ice-blonde girl beside her. 

 

The queen lifted her silky shoulders. “I want the cake we’ve been promised,” she said. “No, that’s not true – I don’t have a lot of experience with love,” she explained. “I really don’t know what I’m doing. I hope you don’t mind.”

 

“Do you mind that I’m the kind of girl who wants to pick her own wife?” Elsa shook her head. “Do you mind if I ride horses and shoot arrows like a man?” Another shake of the head. “Then we’ll get along fine.”

 

“Girls!” Elinor called by the doorway. “Dessert’s to be served. We’re waiting for you to arrive.”

Merida didn’t realize that she’d moved closer to Elsa until their hands brushed as she stood.

Hmm. No wonder her mother was smiling.

 

They signed the marriage contract that night, with forest green ink and icy blue wax seals. Her mother beamed, and Anna cried happy tears.

Elsa was impassive. Merida hoped it was a condition that wouldn’t last beyond the wedding. 

 

 

****

**~~**************************************************************************~~**

 

 

Merida wasn’t a romantic at heart, but she couldn’t resist the symbolism of giving her fiancée something beautiful the afternoon after they signed their marriage contract. The courtship rituals of Arendelle were less well-defined than they were in Dunbroch; aside from the functions they were required to attend, there were no real set patterns to follow. That two women were going to be united in marriage was a brand-new notion and no one knew what to do.

The least Merida could do was bring Elsa a courtship gift. And she knew of a rare, bright blue crocus that grew at the top of the mountain near the castle – one she could scramble up with determined ease. And when she stood at the top of the mountain there was a large armful to be gathered into a thick bundle. She didn’t expect an eagle to be at the same peak – and for it to chase her down off the mountain, her crocuses held high over her head.

She’d assumed that getting down would be a breeze. But when the ledge crumbled under her foot, she found herself flailing out, reaching out, into the thin air for something to hold and finding nothing.

Merida didn’t recall screaming, but she must have made some sort of sound. There was a long, awful anticipation that filled her – waiting for the ground to rush up and crush her. But instead there was a cool slope of ice at her back, and she slid down and into the waiting arms of Elsa.

“I was taking a walk and I heard you yelling, are you okay?!”

She would have been embarrassed by their position, were she not overjoyed not to be a spot of gore on the ground. “These are for you,” she mumbled, thrusting the flowers into Elsa’s face.

“Thank you,” she said. The shadow of the offended bird loomed over all of them, but Elsa was a fast runner – and her free hand blasted bridges and pathways of ice with practiced ease. Merida didn’t want to pierce the bird with her arrow. 

“Hold on!” Elsa told her. Merida – quiver full, bow in hand, and arrow notched, aimed directly below the bird. The commotion was enough to scare the bird away, leaving them to make a careful exit to the general safety of the castle’s bounds.

 

When they were once more at Merida’s home, the two women sat, panting, in the grass for a few moments. Then Elsa took the flowers up in her hand and inhaled their fragrance. 

 

“They’re beautiful,” she said. “But don’t go getting yourself killed on my account.”

Merida stood up, hot-cheeked. “I didn’t mean to scare that bird. I know those mountains! I grew up climbing them!”

“But you can’t predict danger,” Elsa pointed out. “I don’t want you to get hurt for me!”

“If a barbarian broke down that gate, I would gladly get hurt for you,” Merida said. “It’s what my dad would do for my mom.” Duty and loyalty poured from her in that moment. Not love. But perhaps love could come from this.

Elsa’s voice was small. “My parents died when I was young.”

Guilt filled the space between them. “I didn’t mean to…” Elsa shook her head, withdrawing into herself – almost visibly shrinking. Merida did the only thing that came to her mind in that moment. “You already risked your life for me. Just know the debt may be paid in full.”

Elsa accepted those words with a nod of her head – but she was around the corner and out of sight before Merida could protest.

 

 

****

**~~**************************************************************************~~**

 

 

They were kept firmly apart until the day of their wedding – Merida waited for Elsa – who was walked down the aisle by her snowman at the end of a long silk runner following the aisle, her hair pinned up with wildflowers. Elsa had blue flowers in her hair. And as Merida looked at her a new warmth filled her stomach. Pride. Normally an emotion she felt when looking at her family, at her father or her mother, or even her brothers. But now she felt it looking at Elsa.

And when she slid her hand into Elsa’s grip, the woman’s cheeks turned pale pink. They turned to the priest and listened to his words, and slid rings made of diamonds and pearls upon each other’s fingers…

And then the too-familiar bird burst through the stained glass window. Merida instantly pushed Elsa out of the way, he hand on the quiver and bow. Her father’s archers could not properly strike it – but Merida knew she could. With Elsa to protect, she let the arrow fly. 

It struck the bird in its wing, only slightly wounding it. But that was enough of a hint – it retreated. Hopefully to never bother either of them again.

With the fight won, Elsa stood and straightened her flowers. There was respect in her eyes – the first stirrings of love as well. A promising sign. “Where were we?” she asked. Merida smiled. 

She got married with her bow strapped over her shoulder and her hand tucked in her bride’s grip and their kiss was the first of many to come.


End file.
